Approaching hoofbeats heralded James Footman. “My lord, Lady Susan has gone in pursuit,” he yelled as he reined to a halt amid a collective gasp from the scattering servants. “No time to lose.”
“In pursuit of what?” Gabe asked.
“Lord Pendlebury’s carriage, headed for Woltham Quarry.”
As Gabe and his valet raced for their horses, he cursed under his breath. He’d lived in Lancashire a relatively short time and had no idea of the quarry’s location. However, he didn’t doubt the intentions of Arthur’s henchmen. “Do you know the way, James?”
“Aye, milord.”
“Lead on,” he commanded, praying he and Bradley got to the quarry in time to save Halliwell and Lady Susan.
*
Lying on thefloor of the racing carriage alongside the baron’s body, Griff had no opportunity to brace himself against being jostled against the seat. He had to be grateful the boards no longer reeked of chicken shit. It seemed to take an eternity, but he eventually managed to contort himself into a sitting position.
“Thorry,” he spluttered through the wet gag.
Clearly, panic had stolen his wits. He was apologizing to a dead man because his long legs were sprawled across his body.
It came as a short-lived relief when Bertrand moaned. Now, he had to think of a way to save the old man’s life as well as his own. He’d overheard mention of a flooded quarry, which didn’t bode well.
If he could untie the rope around his ankles, an opportunity to flee the carriage might present itself. However, with his hands bound behind his back and the breakneck speed at which they were traveling, there wasn’t much chance of that.
The length of his legs made it difficult to finally brace his feet on the floor, from where, with considerable effort, he levered himself up onto the seat.
Sweating from the exertion and fearing his arms had been wrenched from their sockets, he swiveled to lie across the bench with his feet against the wall. If the fall didn’t kill him and the vehicle ended up in water, perhaps he could kick open the door and swim out. That would still leave the baron to drown, and swimming with his hands bound…
Anger at his helplessness threatened to choke him. He didn’t want to die at the very moment he’d found happiness. As the carriage slowed, he closed his eyes and conjured an image of Susan’s smile. “I should have told you I love you,” he rasped.
*
Susan felt nofear for herself as she clung to Orion’s mane. If the horse’s feet pained him, he gave so sign of it as he chewed up the miles at lightning speed. It was as though he too understood the urgency.
Jaw clenched, she imagined she was Boadicea riding to rid Britain of the Romans, except she meant to survive and do whatever it took to save Griff. She’d never told him she loved him and it was of the utmost importance she remedy that oversight.
Undaunted, she urged Orion on when a full moon cast its light on the dire scene at the top of the quarry. A man was leading a horse away from the carriage. At least they’d thought to spare the animal, probably to use for their getaway. The wheels were still on terra firma but the rear end of the vehicle teetered over the edge of the abyss. Another man leaned his back against the front, legs braced to push.
Righteous anger transformed Susan from the mortal Iceni queen into the immortal Tisiphone, most vengeful of the Furies. Howling like a she-wolf bent on protecting her pups, she kept her gaze fixed on the carriage, willing it to remain where it was as she thrust the point of the dagger into the air.
The moon illuminated the pale, astonished faces of the two thugs moments before they fled into the darkness. It seemed the sight of a demon horse ridden by an avenging fury was more than they were willing to confront.
Two shots echoed nearby, followed by screams of pain; Gabriel must be close, but Susan’s concern was to get Griff out of the carriage. Praying he was alive, she slid off Orion when he snorted to a halt, and ran to yank open the carriage door.
A maelstrom of emotions swirled in her heart when she looked into Griff’s eyes—relief he lived, anger he’d been trussed up like a chicken for the spit, surprise to see the baron on the floor, gut-wrenching fear when the groaning carriage shifted, and, yes, a modicum of amusement at the shock in Griff’s beloved gaze.
He shook his head as she clambered aboard. “Get out, Susan,” he panted when she pulled down the gag. “We’ll go over any second.”
“No,” she replied, sawing at the rope binding his ankles. “We’ll get you both out. Gabriel is on his way.”
“You’re an incredibly stubborn woman,” he rasped. “I regret I’ve never told you how much I love you.”
“I was bothered by a similar regret,” she replied hoarsely. “I love you, infuriating man.”
As soon as his legs were free, they jumped from the doomed carriage, landing inelegantly in the grass. Susan had never felt more alive. She’d saved the life of the man she loved.
“Free my hands,” he growled, getting to his knees.
She hurriedly carried out the task, choked by renewed terror when he climbed back into the teetering conveyance as soon as she’d cut through the rope. “No,” she mouthed.